"Boom..."
With a slow thud to the ground, Beddo, the only surviving member of the Old Demon Clan Faction, could no longer hold on.
"Ugh... Ah..."
Covered in scars and with hardly an intact piece of skin, Beddo lay on the ground, barely hanging on to life. Only a few stifled sounds of misery from his throat informed everyone of the torment he suffered.
The effects of the magic potion had long since worn off.
There was not a trace of magic power left.
Now, Beddo was truly at the end of his rope, exhausted and left with nothing but his last breath.
And that breath was deliberately left by his opponent.
Shane stood in front of Beddo, holding a magic sword, while simultaneously retracting the magic power from his body, he spoke out as if caring.
"How about it? Can you still stand?"
This statement not only scared Beddo but also the knights and adventurers watching.
Who had caused Shane's tone to sound so caring while his face expressed a sense of unfulfilled desire?